


I'm Not Sorry

by Chellacat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Forbidden Love, Guilt, Implied Relationships, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 10:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chellacat/pseuds/Chellacat
Summary: She waits for him until she can't, then she moves on.  He can't stop loving her.  Finally he has to tell her.





	I'm Not Sorry

 

 

“I’m in love with you. There I said it.”

Darcy froze, her hand holding the knife in mid air before she slammed it down on the counter and turned to the man standing in the kitchen doorway.

“What do you mean you’re in love with me?”  She demanded, her voice was unnaturally high at this sudden declaration.  

Bucky brought one hand up to rub the back of him neck uneasily, before stepping in the room properly.

“Just what it sounds like. I woke up one morning and there you were, carving my heart out with a spoon and eating it for breakfast.”

Darcy glared, this could not be happening right now.  Three years. Three years she had waited for him to notice her and now, a week before she’d been due to walk down the isle is when he pulls this on her?  She takes a breath and tries to calm her racing heart.  

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”  It’s true, she has no frigging idea what she’s meant to say or do right now.  They were friends.  Had been friends since Steve had dragged him back here, barley functioning as a human being after what Hydra had done.  She’d taken a liking to him immediately, had poured herself into helping him any way she could, her grandmothers’ stories of the Howling Commando who had carried her from a concentration camp, too deeply ingrained in her mind to do anything less then help this man who had made her life possible.

His posture was bowed, he looked like he’d wished he’d said nothing.  Part of her wished he hadn’t.  

“It is what it is. Sorry.”

He walks back toward the door, hair hanging in his face.  Head bent in defeat?  Sorrow? Remorse?  A collection of all three?  Darcy doesn’t know but in that moment she couldn’t let him go either.

“No.”  Her voice is laced with anger as it carries strongly through the space between then, it’s more than a statement, it’s a challenge.   He stops mid stride, the lines of him pulling together, as though her simple word in response had given him strength or hope.  Tension spills through the room, both of them on edge and daring the other to look away.

Bucky locked eyes with her, twin blue gazes sparking cold fire and heated feeling.

“No what?  Don’t love you?  It’s a little late, tried giving it up, but you’re stuck in all the spaces now, you’re like superglue, you’ve plugging up all the missing bits and made me whole, can’t carve you out doll.”

Darcy almost took a step back from the vehemence in his tone.  This wasn’t her fault, she hadn’t set out to make him love her, certainly not in the way he was implying.  

She had waited for two years for something, anything to happen between them and when it hadn’t happened as she hoped, she had done the smart thing, she’d moved on, found someone else.  And fine, maybe the guy she was meant to be marrying wasn’t the one she’s in love with, but he was a good man, kind and sweet and he respected her.  

Which is why she’d ended it the week before.  Given him the ring back and asked him to move out.  How could she marry him when the man she really wanted lived just down the hall?  When the man she really wanted was his best friend.   She should feel guilty, she thinks absently, that all she wants it to have Bucky fuck her right now, burn his presence into her soul so thoroughly that the two of them are linked to the other forever.   She should feel ashamed that she aches for him and another man suffered because she couldn’t move on.  Unfortunately, none of that mattered to her with the way Bucky was looking at her.  She was caught between fury and longing.  It was as unpleasant an emotional state as it sounded.

“Not _no_ to loving _you_ , _you idiot_. It was no, don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

As she spoke the words, she knew she meant them.  Each syllable loaded with need and anguish.  Even if it tipped her world upside down and broke someone else’s heart, she wasn’t going to take them back.  Darcy’s voice didn’t waver, her posture changed, shoulders back, defying him to contradict her.  She wasn’t going to let him run from this, not now he’d said it.

Bucky’s face wrinkled in confusion at her words.  What was she saying?

“You’re not what?”  He asks, wanting, needing her to say what he thinks she’s saying.

“I’m not sorry you’re in love with me.”

He sucks in a breath then, she’s looking at him like she’s waiting for something.  Like she’s not sure this is happening and all he wants is to take her in his arms.

“Why?”  He asks instead, drawing closer to her, only a few feet between them now.  His eyes pick up everything this close, the faint laugh lines around her eyes, the thickness of sooty lashes framing eyes so big and blue he thinks he could drown in them.  Her eyes have always drawn him in.  They’re so expressive, everything she thinks on display for the world t see, open and honest.  She doesn’t hide who she is, she can’t.  The truth is he knew why.  He’d always known.  He just needed her to say it, out loud.  Because he needed to hear her, needed her permission to do this, cross every line he swore he wouldn’t.  

“Are you really that dense? Jesus Christ Bucky, I’m…  oh for fucks sake.   _You own me,_ you massive dick bag. I’ve been in love with you for years. Do you have any idea what it’s been like watching you go through relationship after relationship and every damn time, it’s my door you turn up at when it’s all over, and now you fucking tell me that you love me?  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.  Damn it.”

She tries hard to keep her voice steady and fails at the last.  Tears welling up and spilling down flushed cheeks.

“Hey, don’t you cry doll. I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”  

“Why now, Bucky?  What changed?  I don’t understand.”

He was standing right in front of her, he brought both hands up to cup her face, his thumbs trying to smooth away the tears.  He didn’t know how to explain it to her, how to tell her how much time he’d spent trying to figure out what the right thing to do was.  How could he say the things he should when he knew it would only hurt her more?

“I’m no good for you, Doll. But I want you so bad it’s killing me. I want you, I want us.  Shit, I’ve wanted you for so long I don’t know any other way to be anymore.”

She gripped his wrists in her hands, nails digging into his flesh, refusing to let go.  

“I don’t give a fuck what you think is good for me.  You are what I want.  I don’t know how to stop wanting you…  loving you. That is never going to change for me.”

“But-“

“No.  No buts. No excuses.  You came in here and you made it real.  You don’t get to do that and walk away.”

“It’s gonna break his heart.”

He’s right, she knows he’s right and it hurts.  But loving him, needing him, her body craving his touch, it hurts so much more that she’s willing to face the consequences of the fall out if he’s standing by her side.

“It already did, he just doesn’t know why.”

She reaches for his cheek, wiping away the tears that have gathered at the corner of his eye.

“Bucky…  please…”

He’s not sure what brings down the last of his resistance, or even if it had been there at all.  But the way she pleads so pretty, the way he knows she wants him just as much as he wants her.  He gives in.

There’s nothing romantic about it, nothing soft.  Clothes are shed quickly, mouths searching and biting, kisses exchanged.  He lifts her onto the kitchen table, pulling her panties down, his fingers delving into her slick folds.  She whines and bucks her hips, chanting his name between begging and cursing.  All he can see and feel and smell is her, intoxicating him.  

She doesn’t hold back, her hands wander, touching, stroking, all the things she’s imagined and more as she reels from the feeling of his hot skin, pressing against her.  She finds his cock, hard and thick, grasps him firmly in her hand and strokes him, finding the right grip, the right pressure by listening to the way his breath catches.  Pre-cum slides under her fingers, making the drag of her skin against his easier.  She welcomes him between her legs, her feet digging into the back of his thighs, pulling him closer till he bats her hands away and uses his own to guide himself to her entrance.

When he pushes into her, she shudders, biting down the need to cry out.  He feels so good, making slow shallow thrusts that ease her open as he grips her ass, metal fingers, leaving prints in her pale skin.  She knows it will bruise but she doesn’t care.  

When he’s finally sheathed himself in her he stops and kisses her slowly, tongue tracing her lips, demanding entrance.  Her head spins and she gasps as he presses into her, angling her hips so he slides deeper and his tongue licks into her mouth, both of then moaning in unison.  Then it’s like a damn breaking, he takes her hard, his cock driving into her over and over as he hold her steady, kissing a path down her neck and mumbling praise into her skin.  

Darcy clutches him, holding on tightly to his shoulders, her pussy already rippling around him, she feels the orgasm rip through her, his name shouted out as he fucks her through it.  Every inch of her skin tingles and sparks as she cums.  Tears spring up at the corners of her eyes as he thrusts, her heart beating wildly in her chest, his name colouring the air around them.  

“Darcy, Doll,  fuck, baby, I love you, I love you…”  he whispers the words into her ear, their bodies flush as he pulls her even closer, drives even deeper.  Her legs lock around him and she tells him she loves him too.  The cool slide of his metal hand as he reaches between them, finding her clit and pressing small circles over it has her panting and begging again even as she feels the world recede and the coil of pleasure ignites in her core once again, but it feels like to much even as it tightens and pulls.

“Bucky… please…  I can’t…”

“Cum for me one more time Doll, cum for me sweetheart, need to feel you do that again… please cum for me baby doll..  Cum with me…”

The way he pleads has her sobbing into his shoulder even as she feels herself fall apart, the most intense orgasm sweeping out and up and through her, walls contracting like a vice around him as she lets go with a cry of his name, half whispered I love yous breathed out from kiss swollen lips.

When he cums she feels his whole body tense above hers and then he shouts her name, hips stuttering as he thrust erratically, warmth pouring into her as she feels him twitch inside her before he buries himself deep, his back arching, their bodies so close they might have been one person.  It feels like heaven.  No him and her, or you and I, just them, together at last.  

Darcy presses kissing along his jaw as he pants, his arms wound tightly around her, as though he may never let her go.  

“I’m never leaving you.” He tells her quietly, his lips brushing softly at hers, the kiss a promise.

“I don’t want you too.”

He nods, kissing her again as they try to catch their breath.

It was going to be messy, telling everyone they were together, but it would be worth it.  But first, just for a little while, they could stay here, in her apartment and let the world forget them for just a little while.

 

 


End file.
